


Wrong Ties (Coming Home)

by Syran



Category: GOT7
Genre: But it was on my mind for a while, Criminal Im Jaebum, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, JJP Feels, M/M, Police Officer Park Jinyoung, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Romantic Fluff, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 01:06:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11910018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syran/pseuds/Syran
Summary: Jinyoung's out searching only to find what he's looking for is waiting for him at home . While, Jaebum after a bad day goes to the only place he can find comfort... home.





	Wrong Ties (Coming Home)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone. Sooooo this one came out of nowhere. I wanted to write the next chapter for the other fic "Red Mage" and I ended up writing this. I've never even posted smut before! I actually wanted my first posted smut to be Jongkey T.T. (Oh wow, I sound like a chick that lost her virginity to the wrong guy.) However, the JJP feels are just too strong. Also Verse #2 is just simply amazing. So, this came to be. I hope you enjoy this!

The night was still young. The sun may have dipped out of view, but the moon has yet to take its place, the sky not even a mid-night blue yet. Tinges of orange and fuchsia lingered in among the clouds – a beautiful sunset. It was the dead of July, the summer heat waving menacingly. Jinyoung still found himself wondering along Seoul’s streets. He walked the sweltering sidewalk, his perfectly polished shoes sticking onto the asphalt every time he tried to lift his foot. Sweat beaded along his headline and dripped in long rivers down his cream skin. His hands were wet inside the pockets of his navy slacks. He was uncomfortable, unbearably so, but he still continued on. He weaved through the bodies and cut into unmarked alleys – wandering.

He stopped once he reached a bar, the building desolate but still functional. Cracks ran up along its walls and a chunk was missing from the roof. To Jinyoung it looked like home. He pushed the wooden door open gently. The hinges squeaked in protest despite his gentle handling. The bar’s patrons all turned at the sound; however they all put their noses back into their drinks once they spotted the familiar raven in the doorframe. He was welcomed here among the broken and ousted.

He sat at the bar, the bartender turning to him with a weathered but, Jinyoung noticed, no longer wary smile. “I’ll never understand,” the barkeep spoke as he roughly handled the glass in his hand, “Why a detective will frequent this place.” The man placed the newly cleaned glass on a napkin in front of Jinyoung. The glass perfectly reflected the gold of Jinyoung’s police badge before the brown of his favorite brandy darkened the reflection. It looked tarnished due to the brown liquor, and as Jinyoung tilted the glass to his lips he felt that it fitted.

“You know,” the bartender continued. He was used to Jinyoung’s silence. “Your boy ain’t here,” he said. He placed his elbows on the table, his face serious. “I heard he got into some serious shit,” he said.

The severity of his voice caught Jinyoung’s attention. He slowly finished his sip, calmly placed his drink back upon his napkin, and raised an eyebrow. “What type of shit,” he asked. The officer’s eyes were a blank void and his raised brow could have even been seen as condescending or blasé. Yet the tense line of his lips and the intensity of his solid stance told another story. He was worried.

“I’m not sure,” the bartender answered. He knew that his answer wouldn’t suffice and the slump of his shoulders showed how much that bothered him. Jinyoung appreciated the sentiment and it still the hand that reached for his pistol. “I’ll keep an ear out.”

Jinyoung nodded, “Appreciated.” He then continued to sip on his brandy. His fingers elegantly handled the glass, his lush lip pushing softly against the glass. “Very appreciated,” he mumbled, his lips moving amongst the glass they were pressed against. The raven then sat his empty glass onto the table, the remaining ice rattling noisily. The other customers looked up once more (the police officer sure he caught eyes with a man he had a warrant for) before they all returned to their meager lives – Jinyoung included.

\--------

Jinyoung slid his key into the lock. The door easily popped open... without him turning the key. His face skewed. That wasn’t right. He drew his pistol from out of his holster, the weapon heavy in his palm. Afterwards he eased the door open and toed his way into his apartment.

The lights were just as he left them. The kitchen light shone infuriatingly bright, creating shadows in his living room. Light peaked out and rolled across his wooden floors, but refrained from the furniture. His coach was completely shrouded. His curtains were also drawn shut and kept the moonlight out. He crept along his floorboards, knowing where to place his toes in order to avoid ancient creaks. He kept his gun aimed as he surveyed the area. Then he swiveled towards his arm chair that sat on the other side of the room and noticed a pair of shoes that sat at its legs. “Size 12,” he said as he inspected the shoe. He lowered his gun to his side as he turned the shoe to and fro. “I don’t wear a size 12,” he whispered to himself.

“Then I suppose that I need to return those.” Jinyoung jerked up and spun towards his bedroom door, his gun leveled with the intruder’s forehead. “Did I scare you,” the other teasingly asked. His lips were parted in a wicked smirk, dark and dangerous. His chest was bare, his pants unzipped and slacked. His hair was dripping small droplets onto the floorboard and along his exposed alabaster skin. He looked comfortable, as if he belonged there. Jinyoung supposed in some ways he did.

“Jaebum,” the officer affirmed before asking, “What are you doing here?” He still had his pistol trained on the other as he waited for him to answer. The other, Jaebum, ran his hand through his damp onyx hair and squeezed. His bicep flexed as he pulled, ringing out his hair on Jinyoung’s floors.

Then he simply shrugged and spread himself out on Jinyoung’s couch. He threw his arm over the back and slouched, his legs spread invitingly wide. He also was covered in the shadows that hid the couch from out of view. “I wanted to see you,” he said. He settled in more, leaning his head behind him and exposing his throat. “I’ve had quite the day,” he continued. The position of his head made his words come out thicker and distorted as they passed through his bent throat.

“Is that so,” Jinyoung replied. He lowered his gun as he walked towards the other. He used his pistol to push the other’s shirt aside and the cloth slid off Jaebum’s shoulder. Jinyoung’s eyes followed, finding a long deep cut that connected his two collarbones and continued along his shoulder. It seemed as though someone aimed to slit his throat and just missed the mark. Another split ran along his cheekbone, one more on his temple that only became visible when Jaebum turned to face him. “Quite the day indeed,” Jinyoung off-handedly commented, “Are you ok?” He distractedly continued to gently probe Jaebum shirt and skin with the cold barrel of his gun as he checked for more injuries. His pistol lowered from Jaebum’s shoulders to his pecs and down the line of his abs, slowly searching.

Jaebum could hear the air leave his flared nostrils as his breath pick up speed. “Just fine,” the other gasped out. The officer nodded but still continued his search, the cool barrel sliding easily along his wet skin. Jaebum could feel his eyes drift close, the pistol now below his navel and between the unfastened zippers of his opened fly. When he opened them again he found Jinyoung on his knees in front of him. The pistol was replaced with his fingers, yet the detective still press and searched. The pads of his fingers pressed into his lower abs, his thumb rubbing circles above his heat. “I meant what I said,” Jaebum begun. His voice was much softer than the teasing tone from before, sincere and exposed. He then sat up, leaning over Jinyoung. He passed both of his hands in the other’s hair before cupping them under Jinyoung’s chin and lifting his head towards him. “I wanted to see you,” he repeated.

Again Jinyoung nodded. “I know,” he whispered. He always knew. He placed his hands flat upon Jaebum’s thighs, hot and possessive. With his fingers wide-spread, he slowly slid them upward. When he reached the other’s hips he grabbed them and pulled Jaebum closer, forcing the man to sit on the edge of the couch as he shifted forward enough to nuzzle his navel. He placed a kiss there, below where another deep opened wound laid. Someone stabbed him there, tried to kill him. As his plumped lips yielded to Jaebum’s hard muscles he vowed that he would eradicate the person that laid that mark. “I know,” he whispered again, his lips pressed against Jaebum’s skin just as they were pressed against his brandy glass earlier that night. He then slowly pulled away, his wet lips sticking slightly to Jaebum’s wet skin. He rubbed where his lips had been. “Who did this to you,” he asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Jaebum breathed. He weaved his fingers back within Jinyoung’s raven locks, pulling him closer and patting him gently. “I just,” he began. The remainder of his words released in a low moan, the sound building up in his chest before being pressed wantonly through his lips. The lips that were under his navel traveled lower, mouthing him through his damp boxers, the blue fabric turning dark from where Jinyoung’s tongue touched it. “Please,” he breathed again, “I just needed this.” Jaebum’s plea was quiet, low and almost lost in a rush of wind, but Jinyoung obliged.

The officer kneed his fallen gun away from him and sunk lower on his legs, settling between Jaebum’s opened thighs. He rubbed his aristocratic nose along the curve of Jaebum’s hardened penis. The appendage twitched to meet him. “Calm down,” Jinyoung soothed, “I got you now.” Jinyoung then hooked his thumbs into the blue fabric coving it and pulled it away, letting his fingers brush against Jaebum’s strained hips as he raised them for him. “I’ve got you,” he whispered lowly. It was more a reassurance to himself than to Jaebum.

Gently taking each ankle into his palms, he pulled the cloth off and left Jaebum bare. Jinyoung placed his palm onto Jaebum chest and slowly pushed him back so he was spread along the couch again. Slouching on Jinyoung’s couch, shirt sloppily placed on him, hair mused and strewn over his face, pants removed and legs sinfully bare; Jinyoung has never seen Jaebum so enticing or so vulnerable. It was moments like this that made caring for a man like Jaebum easy for him.

Settling his hands on the inside of Jaebum’s thighs, Jinyoung spread his legs further and ran his tongue along Jaebum’s hardness. The taste of him erupted onto Jinyoung’s senses; strong, masculine yet not intimidating or overbearing. It was like coming home. He tasted the other once more, for his sake, before engulfing Jaebum whole, his nose grazing the other’s lower abs. He could even feel them tighten as he hollowed his cheeks and a loud groan sounded above him.

“Jinyoung,” Jaebum hissed out. His body contracted and release all at once. Relief washing over him as tension built within him. He reached out, tangling his fingers into Jinyoung’s dark hair, the muscles in his arms straining as he tried to refrain from yanking the other’s hair. He was afraid of pulling Jinyoung away. This – this was what he needed. He could feel as Jinyoung’s head bobbed dutifully under his palm. He could feel his soft lips as they pushed and pulled over him. Jinyoung’s cheeks sucked him in and his tongue massaged just under his tip. He could feel everything Jinyoung did – everything he had to offer.

He tilted his hand, sliding it over the detective’s caved cheeks. He wanted to show his appreciation but his words were caught behind heavy breaths and deep sighs. Instead, he tenderly caressed with his thumb what he could reach. He knew what they were doing was wrong. Despite his bleared vision and the low lighting he could still see the gold badge that glinted from the front of Jinyoung’s shirt. Plus Jaebum could tell from the swelling in his heart that this was becoming dangerous. It wasn’t just fun anymore. Yet, he still came. He almost died and all he thought of was seeing him – feeling him. “Jinyoung,” he slowly said, his voice catching towards the end. The man hummed from deep in his chest in return. Jaebum moaned once more as the vibrations rang from the other’s mouth and up Jaebum’s shaft.  

Again Jinyoung hummed and he could feel the man’s thighs quake on either side of him. He grabbed them, stilling them before humming once more. Jaebum moan again, his voice loud and low. His deep baritone flowed onto Jinyoung’s tongue. He could feel the other. His lower abs quivered. His thighs barely remained still beneath Jinyoung’s hands. The pads of his fingers pressed down hard on the back of the officer’s head in a vain attempt to not pull. Jaebum was close.

Jinyoung pulled once more, dragging his tongue along the underside, pursing his lips and slacking his jaw. Suddenly thick liquid painted a portrait on his awaiting tongue. Above him Jaebum groaned low and pitifully, his fingers finally closing in Jinyoung’s hair as he finally lost himself. The building tension finally drained from him, leaving only relief, and he slacked boneless on the couch.

Jinyoung kissed Jaebum along his scarred chest as the man heaved, up his throat and on his parted lips. He placed another on his sliced temple. “Be gone within the hour,” he said as his lips pulled gently from his forehead. It was meant to be strong, but it anything but. His voice was hoarse and trembled uncontrollably. He cleared his throat to try again but stop when he tasted the lingering essence of Jaebum on his tongue. Instead he bent to retrieve his discarded gun and was met with Jaebum’s unrelenting stare.

“Do you really want me to,” Jaebum questioned. Sweat from both the heat outside and between them beaded along his face. He was still flushed from his orgasm. His black locks were thrown carelessly around his flawless features. He was truly beautiful. Yet his eyes were clear and sentient despite his earlier pleasure. They were dark, menacing and mystifying. He was so dangerous.

Jinyoung was entranced by the sharp eyes that stared him down and the domestic features that surround them. No, he didn’t want him to go. He breathed out slow, the two of them so close that the breath further ruffled Jaebum’s hair. “I-”he started. However he couldn’t finish. He had to force himself to look away. “You’re wanted,” he said instead, “For a dozen murders from Daegu, to Seoul.” Jaebum sat back then, their noses no longer in threat of touching. “I was assigned to turn you in,” Jinyoung finished, “Not... this.” He gestured, frustrated, between them. No, it wasn’t supposed to end up like this, Jinyoung thought.

“I’m sorry,” Jaebum sighed and the apology sounded foreign on his lips. He sat further back as he continued, uncaring of his nakedness. “But that was business,” he said. He then gestured to his various open wounds. “It’s all just business,” he continued, “I didn’t mean to get you caught up in this.” He then reached for his pants, hissing when he disturbed his abdomen wound. He pulled them back around his narrow waist, again disregarding the zipper, before he sat back down. “I’ll leave,” he said, but instead of leaving he leaned forward and caught Jinyoung under his chin. “I’ll leave forever,” he stated, “But only if you really want me to.” He looked Jinyoung in the eye, “Tell me that you don’t feel anything and I’ll leave.”

Jinyoung couldn’t. “If I turn you in,” he said instead, “You’ll know that it’ll just be business, right?” A smirk slowly blossomed across Jaebum’s sharp features before he closed his eyes and fondly chuckled. It was an invitation to stay, to continue their game of cat and mouse. Maybe they could add the game of ‘house’ to their setup as well.

“Of course,” he answered. He once again was cocky and sure, sly and teasing. He stood and fixed his clothes. Buttons covered hard muscles and scarring skin and zippers covered once hardened flesh. Afterwards Jaebum headed to the door. “By the way,” he began as he reached for the knob, “What size shoes do you wear?”

“An 11 and a half,” Jinyoung answered with a laugh. Jaebum nodded and hummed, most likely cataloging the information before he was gone. Jinyoung slumped into the chair where the new shoes sat as that phone rang.

“Detective Park,” the voice on the other end sounded urgently, “We just found one.” Jinyoung sat straighter in the chair. “Blood’s dried but I think it was someone from the Im family. There’s a bit of reckless splatter, maybe a struggle, but from the looks of it,” the man continued, “It seems like an Im hit. You think your boy’s responsible?”

Jinyoung sighed tiredly. It was business indeed. “Back of the head and between the eyes,” Jinyoung asked, “Execution style.” The person of the other end hummed in affirmative. “Yeah, it sounds like him,” Jinyoung returned, “Hang tight Jackson. I’m on my way.”

“Yeah, got it,” Jackson answered. He then sighed, the phone shifting as the man most likely kneeled to get a closer view of the body. “We got to find this guy, Jinyoung,” he spoke gravely, “This is getting out of hand.”

“I know,” Jinyoung sighed. Everything was starting to get out of hand. “We’ll be able to do something,” Jinyoung stated, “Soon it’ll all be over.”

**Author's Note:**

> Again I hope you enjoyed that little first major attempt. Also again, please listen to Verse #2 if you haven't. (And if you have listen to it AGAIN!!) Comment if you have anything to share and I'll hopefully see you guys again.


End file.
